


Of Cowboys And Indians

by Kanzi



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1990s, Alternate Universe - Children, Fluff, Humor, Kid Castiel/Kid Dean Winchester, M/M, illustrated version available
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-16
Updated: 2017-03-16
Packaged: 2018-10-06 02:57:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10324022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kanzi/pseuds/Kanzi
Summary: Dean is a cowboy, and a sheriff, and nearly 5 years old already! He meets a strange blue-eyed „Indian“ boy. Can they be friends?So this is everybody growing up as children in the 1990s. Pocahontas changes Dean's life.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> illustrated version here: http://eirieniel.deviantart.com/art/Of-Cowboys-and-Indians-669292027

 

_(1992, Dean is 5)_

 

It was summer when the Winchesters moved into their new house in Pontiac, Illinois. Dean hadn't really wanted to move because he had no friends there, but the house was pretty neat and he'd have his own room. Maybe he could play with Sammy if there were no other kids in the neighborhood.

 

His little brother was just a baby now, though, and his mom had explained to him that 10 months was still too young to play Cowboys and Indians (which was Dean's favorite game). Dean made do with wrapping a pink towel around his tiny body, calling him 'Samantha' and defending him against the hordes of dangerous Indians trying to kidnap him.

 

Sammy didn't complain about playing the girl and he showed a healthy appreciation for Dean's pride and joy, a shiny metal sheriff's star, so he guessed that was alright.

 

The new house was really big, at least bigger than the one they had been living in with grandma and grandpa Campbell until now, but it didn't have a garden to play in. His dad told him there was a park just around the corner and why didn't he go there and take a look and not stand in the way of any grown-ups trying to move furniture.

His mom reminded him not to talk to strangers or go anywhere but the park or eat candy from strangers or get into anyone's car or stay out when it got dark and then finally, _finally_ he could go. He grabbed his white cowboy hat and his pistol. He would like to have a real big gun like the cowboys in the movies always had, but his pistol could shoot actual neon yellow bullets so it was awesome. Then he made sure his sheriff's star was still pinned to his front and took off.

 

The park was _awesome_.

 

There were gigantic old trees, like a whole forest, where he could hunt bears and make a pretend campfire. There were some bushes he could hide in and even a playground he could explore. It was perfect for having adventures.

 

He had been in the park for several hours and was currently crawling through the bushes to collect sticks for his campfire when someone else arrived at the playground.

There was a tall boy with blond hair pushing a stroller with a child not much older than Sammy, but it was the third boy that immediately caught Dean's eye and made his breath hitch. The kid was about his age, wearing jeans and a blue T-shirt but, most importantly, a headband with two large white feathers stuck in the back. He also carried a bow and had a thingy with arrows slung over his shoulders.

 

An Indian. A real live Indian, the first one he ever saw.

 

The tall boy with the stroller walked to the small sandpit while the Indian made his way up to the slide. Dean crept around the side, then he drew his pistol, held his breath and took a shot.

The plastic bullet pinged off the metal of the slide. The boy's blue eyes fixed on him.

The second shot went far over his shoulder. "Why are you shooting at me?", he asked.

 

"'cause you're an Indian."

 

"Yes."

 

"And I'm a cowboy." The other kid tilted his head to the side, clearly not understanding. "Cowboys and Indians always shoot at each other!"

 

"Why would I shoot you? We are a peaceful people."

 

"...You talk funny."

 

"You look funny."

 

Dean pouted at that. "What are the arrows for, then?", he demanded to know.

 

"Hunting", the strange boy replied, "and when I am in grave danger."

 

"Well I'm shooting at you, so I'm a danger."

 

"You are not a very good shot." Dean growled in anger. He took a few more shots but the first bullet fell short, the second one hit the slide again and the third one only missed because the Indian slid down the slide at the wrong moment, honestly.

 

When the strange child strode towards him Dean had run out of bullets because his mom never bought him new ones. He was a bit scared because he thought the other boy might hit him for shooting at him, but the Indian just stood really close and stared at him.

 

"I am a warrior of the Great Manitou", the boy intoned, "so I will not fight with you unless He commands it."

 

"Liar! Indians always ambush cowboys and fight them. And they rob trains, so that's why cowboys shoot Indians."

 

"I didn't steal any trains and _you_ ambushed _me_. You shot first!"

 

Dean made a face and blushed indignantly. He didn't want to admit that the other kid was right. "Well, you're stupid and you don't know how to play cowboys and Indians right!", he sneered, shoved the boy's shoulder and ran home.

 

+++

 

The next few days, Dean volunteered to help his parents unpack and got put in charge of his toy box. He stayed the hell away from the park.

 

+++

 

"WELL, INDIANS ALWAYS ATTACK TOWNS! AND...AND THEY SET FIRE TO FIELDS!", he yelled up to the leafy canopy.

 

"DO NOT! AND SINCE IT'S OUR LAND, WE'D BE SETTING FIRE TO OUR OWN FIELDS, WHICH WOULD BE STUPID!", came the answering shout far above Dean's head. The Indian had climbed a tree and Dean was a little too scared of heights to follow him. His pistol was useless again although he had spare bullets this time.

 

"OF COURSE THEY'RE NOT YOUR FIELDS! WHO SAYS THEY'RE YOUR FIELDS?" Much to Dean's chagrin, a rubber-tipped arrow hit him in the shoulder. People with arrows should not win against people with guns! That was just stupid!

 

"OUR ANCESTORS LIVED HERE FOR MILLIONS OF HUNDREDS OF YEARS, SO WHY SHOULD THEY BE YOURS? YOU SHOULD SHOW ME SOME RESPECT!"

 

Dean hated that he didn't know what to say to that. He also hated that the embarrassment made him blush so hard. And he really hated that he couldn't just hit the boy for not getting it because he was so unreachable up there he might as well have been sitting on a cloud.

So the Great Sheriff Dean Winchester snorted, turned around and stomped back to his home.

 

This was not a defeat.

 

+++

 

When he asked his parents about the fields at dinner (after much explaining, why did grown-ups always need so much explaining?), his dad just laughed. Dean didn't see what was so funny, it was actually really serious what with the fields and the train robberies and the shooting at people.

 

His mum was smiling too, but she asked him: "Why don't you try being friends with him? You could share the... fields. If they're so important to you." She shot an incredulous look at his father, and yeah, Dean didn't actually want any fields, but that didn't mean that some Indian could have them.

 

"Cowboys can't be friends with Indians, Mom!"

 

"Why not? Do you remember Thanksgiving last year?"

 

"Not really."

 

"Well, when the settlers first came to America... the people who would later become cowboys..." Dean perked up because he always liked stories about cowboys, "When they first came to America, there was a really hard winter and they all would have died if the Indians hadn't given them food. The next year, they had a good harvest, and they had a feast to thank God for giving them so much food and they invited the Indians to thank them for sharing theirs. They all had a big party together."

 

"Really?"

 

"Really. That's what we celebrate each year." Dean said nothing after that, just mashed his peas thoughtfully.

 

+++

 

There were other kids in the playground the next day. Dean found the one he was looking for sitting on a park bench, drawing strange symbols into the gravel path with a long stick. When he saw Dean approaching, the other boy reached for his bow and readied an arrow, but Dean held up his hands to show that he was unarmed.

 

"Please, I just want to talk today." He sat down at the end of the next bench.

 

The Indian eyed him warily, but put away his weapons. "What did you want to talk about?"

 

"My mom told me cowboys and Indians can be friends, but only if it's Thanksgiving or something."

 

Again, the strange boy just stared at him really hard, head tilted to one side. Dean could practically see him thinking. After a while he seemed to come to a decision and nodded.

 

"Can I show you something if you promise not to tell another soul?"

 

"Okay."

 

The weird kid took his hand and pulled him towards the bushes. He led him through some sort of natural tunnel, then a hole in a fence, over an old rusted barrel and around the corner of what used to be a shed but had half fallen in. At last, they were standing in front of a big leafy thicket with thorns. Dean wanted to protest when the other child reached towards it but stopped when he saw what he was reaching for.

Delicately, his Indian picked a couple of bright pink berries and then offered them to Dean.

 

"Raspberries", he explained. "This used to be someone's garden, but now they're wild."

 

"Awesome", Dean answered. "How did you know that?"

 

"The natives have lived on this land for a long time. Every Indian knows how to find food in the wilderness and to talk with nature."

 

"Awesome", he repeated. Solemnly, they ate the berries. "What's your name? I'm Dean."

 

"Hello, Dean. I'm Castiel." Seeing Dean's frown, he added: "In your tongue, it means Angel-of-Thursday."

 

"Now, that can't be right! All Indians have names about buffaloes or... or having black feet."

 

Castiel's nose wrinkled disdainfully. "An Indian is named after the first thing his mother sees upon giving birth. My mother saw a picture of the angel of Thursday on a wall and named me after him."

 

"That's... that's actually kinda cool", the little cowboy admitted. "Hey Cas, d'you want to be friends with me? We could hunt together and go on adventures and stuff."

 

"Yes, Dean." Blue eyes, staring, "I would like that."

 

+++

 

They played together almost every day from then on. Cas would use his "superior tracking skills" and collect Dean's neon yellow bullets after shooting, so he always had more than enough of them.

 

Dean got attacked by swans on a picnic with his family when he tried to get some new awesome feathers for Cas' headband. The broad smile he got when he presented them to his friend was worth the ripped trousers, though.

 

+++

 

When he learned that Cas didn't have a mother anymore, only a ridiculously huge number of siblings and cousins and his stepmother Naomi who was always away on business with his father, Dean didn't hesitate to invite him to his place. Frequently. He had him eat his mom's famous apple pie, because that's how family was supposed to work, not steal their siblings' candy like that big meanie Gabriel.

He was happy that his family liked his best friend too because the guy was always really polite and helped set out the dishes and everything.

 

So Cas became a permanent fixture in the Winchester household and Dean couldn't have been happier. They often spent the day riding around the house, sheriff Dean on the big broom with the black bristles and Indian Cas on a scraggly but trusty mop. Some days Cas came to his room and told him stories from his sheer endless well of knowledge about Native American culture, or they'd just watch cartoons pressed together in a pillow fort on the sofa.

 

Secretly, Dean wished Cas could just come and live with them.

 

+++

 

_(1993, Dean is 6)_

 

They were sitting on the floor of Cas' room. His friend was showing him how to make hand-print turkey pictures for Thanksgiving.

 

"But I don't wanna go to my grandparents' place", he said morosely as he watched Cas slather red paint on one of his fingers. "What's the point in knowing a real Indian if I can't even be with you on Thanksgiving?"

 

The other boy gripped his shoulder and looked at him seriously. "I will be with you in spirit", he told him. "I have duties to my tribe as you have to your family, but if it makes you feel better: I would also rather come with you."

 

It did make Dean feel better. Also, painting with his fingers was rather fun, although his mother was less than enthusiastic about it when she saw the colorful hand-print Cas had inadvertently left on the shoulder of his shirt.

 

+++

 

_(1994, Dean is 7)_

 

Their group of friends had grown over time. Sammy was now 3 and old enough to come to the park if mom or dad were watching. They needn't have bothered, though, because his little brother was also his deputy sheriff and he would never let him get hurt. Plus there was Cas, who had saved Sammy from ferocious wild bears at least 5 times and once from an _actual_ angry wasp.

 

Sometimes, there was 5-year-old Anna who was a member of Cas' tribe but occasionally switched over to the cowboys.

 

More often there was Jo, who was 7 and also a cowboy (she was a girl, but she could punch really hard, so Dean kept his mouth shut) or the owner of a saloon where both cowboys and Indians could go. One time, her mother let her have actual lemonade and some plastic cups and they could drink real drinks at the bar, which was awesome.

 

However, Cas was still his absolutely best friend (besides his brother, but a brother was a _brother_ and that didn't really count). They went to the same school now but had ended up in different classes, so sometimes they didn't see each other for half of the day. So Dean accompanied Cas to his home and they did their homework together and let one of Cas' stuck-up brothers or Gabriel (who was anything but stuck-up, but a terrible tease) correct it because all that was still better than not being with Cas for a whole day.

 

He still sometimes wished for Cas to live with him.

 

+++

 

_(1995, Dean is 8)_

 

He was not moping. Definitely not. He was just a bit annoyed because it had been raining for days and he couldn't play outside. And also because Cas had gone with his family on some cruddy bonding-time camping trip and wouldn't be back for another week. And _thirdly_ because his brother always wanted to play detectives instead of cowboys ever since he'd seen “The Great Mouse Detective“.

 

The solution to all (well... some) of his problems presented itself when he heard about the new Disney movie “Pocahontas”. Surely that had to have cowboys in it! And once Sammy had seen it he'd want to play _properly_ again instead of pretending to be a mouse or something.

 

He got their mom to take them both to the cinema. At first, Dean was disappointed because there was not a single cowboy anywhere. The closest they had in the movie was that weird blond knight guy who had forgotten half his armor. But soon he got into the story.

 

By the time they got out of the theater he was gripping his mother's hand tightly and stoically fighting back tears.

 

“But why did he have to go away, Mom?”, the boy asked in a shaky voice.

 

“He was hurt, so he needed to go home to get better, darling.”

 

“But why didn't Pocahontas go _with_ him? Didn't she really like him?”

 

Mary saw her son's imploring look and sighed. “You see, the _real_ Pocahontas, the one the film is based on, she went after him a little while later.”

 

“Really?”

 

She nodded. “She went to England, got married, and lived there until she died.”

 

“Really”, Dean breathed and didn't say another word until they reached the car.

 

+++

 

That night Dean lay awake in bed, thinking hard. He figured that if he and Cas were married no one could force them to go on separate holidays anymore and if one of them had to go away the other could come with him because the law said so. Being together forever also sounded really neat.

He'd need to ask him but he was sure Cas would be right on board with that plan.

 

+++

 

The problem, Dean thought, was that he wasn't as good with words as Sammy. If only he could explain properly Cas wouldn't do the bird-y head tilt thing he always did when he didn't quite understand something.

 

“But isn't marriage for people who want to kiss each other and stuff?”, the other boy wanted to know.

 

“I'd kiss you every day if it meant that you would come stay with me”, Dean burst out. He'd tried to sound sure but he could feel his ears going red again. If only they'd stop doing that!

 

To cover up his embarrassment he went to grab the 'Pocahontas' video cassette he'd begged and begged and _begged_ his mother to get. He'd even offered to buy it himself but it turned out his piggy bank was rather low on coins at that moment. Luckily his mom had agreed to pay what was missing because she was the best mom ever.

 

Dean made his friend sit next to him on the couch and they watched the movie in silence. Cas had to understand, he always did. Dean squeezed his hand to point out when something important happened (and also during the scary parts).

When it was over Cas squeezed back, nodded and then kissed his cheek. Dean was so happy he gave his friend the hardest bear hug he knew how to give and they both rolled off the sofa, laughing.

 

+++

 

_(1996, Dean is 9)_

 

“Dean, I have thought about our marriage.”

 

“You haven't changed your mind, right?” Dean looked up from his comic book worriedly.

 

“No”, the other boy said easily, “of course not. But that's only a Western ceremony and anyway we can't do that until we're 18. I would like to additionally bind us in a Native American ceremony.”

 

“Right now? Awesome!” His comic forgotten, he joined his friend sitting cross-legged on the floor. “What do I do?”

 

Castiel fetched Dean's pen-knife which Mr. Winchester had gotten his son for whittling. So far Dean had successfully produced a large number of very pointy sticks; if a vampire attacked the town, Dean was the guy to call!

 

“We are swearing a blood oath”, Cas intoned as he dragged the sharp edge across his thumb. Dean did not hesitate to hold his hand out for him to do the same to his. It didn't hurt as much as he'd thought.

 

“Our blood is now mixed”, the boy continued as he pressed their fingers together. Dean wriggled his a bit to mix it really well. “My blood is in your veins, yours is in mine. We are as family to each other.” Finally he pulled out two band-aids.

 

“That's it?”, Dean asked. “Don't we have to kiss?”

 

Cas' blue eyes widened. “Er, I guess?”, he hazarded.

 

“Only it wouldn't be much of a marriage ceremony without a kiss.”

 

“You're right, Dean. I nearly forgot that.” They puckered up and shared a dry-lipped kiss. Everyone knew it was a rubbish marriage ceremony without a kiss.

 

+++

 

_(1997, Dean is 10)_

 

Dean was horrified when he learned that the real Pocahontas actually married a completely different guy and that "lived in England until she died" in fact meant "for one year until she died with 22 on the way back".

He gave his mother deeply betrayed looks during dinner that day and vowed never to get himself shot or let Cas go to Europe.

 

+++

 

"Is it customary to wear a blanket?", Cas asked.

 

"It’s called a serape, and yes…" he caught the expression on his little brother's face titled get-on-with-it-Dean-I-wanna-go-trick-or-treating, "oh, never mind."

 

They weren't even outside for 5 minutes when neighborhood douche-bag Crowley shouted "Hey, nice blanket!" from across the street. Dean nearly threw his new poncho on the floor in anger.

 

+++

 

_(1999, Dean is 12)_

 

"Dad, men can marry other men, right?"

 

John Winchester lowered his magazine and looked as if his eldest son had grown another head. "Why do you ask?"

 

"You know Gordon, at school? He said it was against the law. I told him it wasn't and he's just a bully who doesn't know anything. Right, Dad?"

 

"Well..." Gordon was a supremely unpleasant child who had butted heads with Dean on more than one occasion. "In this case he's right. It's OK over in Europe but not around here."

 

The boy's lips curled into an angry pout at, John assumed, having lost an argument to the school bully. At least until his son opened his mouth and said: "Maybe Sammy can become a politician or something and change the law. I don't wanna go to Europe to get married."

 

He got up and went to his room, leaving his father speechless at the table with the broken shards of everything he'd thought he knew.

 

+++

 

When Cas started to learn Jujitsu, Dean jokingly asked if he wanted to stop being an Indian and switch to ninjas now.

 

"I need to be able to defend myself."

 

"Against what?"

 

"Do you remember Gordon?"

 

"That douche-bag didn't give you trouble again, did he?" Dean's hands curled into fists.

 

"Not recently, no. But... you know our computer?" Cas' family had bought a shiny new Windows '98 PC. Him and Dean were sometimes allowed to play games on it but mostly the older siblings hogged the thing. "When Gabriel showed me how to view porn on the internet-"

 

"Dude WHAT!?" Dean interrupted incredulously but his friend just looked at him in near-angelic serenity as usual. "Why would... how... argh, it's Gabriel, of course he'd do that", he finished miserably. "...How was it?"

 

"It was about a pizza-man, didn't make sense and likely left me traumatized for quite some time. More importantly, he showed me how to delete my internet history."

 

Dean did not see how that was in any way more important, whatever it was.

 

"It means my family can't see what I've been... researching. I've found a forum where homosexuals discussed their life experiences." He looked at Dean meaningfully. "A very common feature in their stories was bullying or even outright violence. Should that happen to us, I'd like to be prepared."

 

Later the same day Dean asked his father to teach him how to fight. John leaped at the chance of some apparently much needed father-son bonding time of manly manliness. It did not occur to him that he was, in fact, teaching his gay son how to defend himself and his boyfriend against bullies.

 

+++

 

_(2002, Dean is 15)_

 

At some point in the last years they had stopped playing Cowboys and Indians, but it was wordlessly understood that Dean would, deep in his heart, always be the righteous man who fought against injustice in the world and Cas would always be his wise and beautiful blood brother.

 

+++

 

_(2003, Dean is 16)_

 

"Dean, I can't believe you flirt like that with Lisa when Cas is standing right over there!", his younger brother flailed at him.

 

"Chill, Sammy. Cas knows I don't mean anything by it."

 

"Does he really or is he just too polite to say so? Because I know how I'd feel if Jess was standing next to me and then randomly started hitting on other guys."

 

"Dude," his eyes wandered across the room to where Cas was entrenched in a debate about the upcoming summer festival, "we're good, no need for your chick-flick freak-out." As if on cue, the other boy's eyes found his and held his gaze for two seconds, three, before being drawn back to the heated discussion.

 

Sam pulled bitch-face #4, threw his hands in the air and stomped off.

 

+++

 

After mulling it over for a few days, Dean decided to bite the bullet and talk to Cas just to be sure.

 

"Hey, um, so Sammy chewed me out for flirting with Lisa the other day." He shifted uncomfortably. "I told him you weren't bothered by it. I mean, you're not, right?"

 

"No, Dean, I'm not." Dean breathed a sigh of relief. "I know your habit of flirting with every female you meet is just a deeply ingrained behavioral tic from watching too many bad western movies."

 

"Hey!" Dean protested weakly, but he was actually just glad that Cas still understood him perfectly without needing explanations. Take that, Sammy.

 

"I also know that you are a good man who would not cheat on his partner. If you ever developed a serious attraction for somebody else, I trust that you would tell me."

 

"Fuck, Cas", Dean put his arms around the other youth's shoulders and pulled him into a hug, "as if I could ever find someone better than you."

 

Cas' arms snaked around his waist. "It also helps that they stop flirting back whenever I stand next to you for more than 20 seconds."

 

Dean blinked. "Huh." He mentally went back over several instances and found that his friend was not lying. "Why's that?"

 

"I don't know. You and I do share a profound bond, I like to think people can sense it."

 

"That's some seriously hippie shit, Cas."

 

"I wasn't going to mention it."

 

+++

 

Dean plonked his backside into the diner seat opposite his brother. "So, Cas and I talked about the flirting thing."

 

"Really? And what did he say?"

 

"Same thing I told ya", Dean allowed himself a triumphant grin. "He also mentioned that people don't flirt with me when he's there." He stopped long enough to order pie for both of them before turning back to face Sam. "I've been paying attention since then and it's true. I can't figure out why, though, 'cause he doesn't glower or anything. He's just his weirdly polite self and I dunno why that would put people off _me_."

 

"Seriously?" His brother made a face at him. "It's not him, Dean, it's... well, both of you, actually. You never noticed?"

 

"Noticed what, Sammy? And if you say the words 'profound bond' I will strangle you with your own girly hair."

 

Sam scrunched up his nose. "For example how personal space does not exist for you two? You always stand so close you're breathing the same air, and when the three of us are at a diner you practically sit in each other's lap. Also, the eye sex."

 

"The what now?"

 

"When you look at him and he looks at you and then you sort of gaze lovingly into each other's eyes for ages."

 

"We do NOT!"

 

"You totally do. It's little things, but there's a lot of them. You don't need to outright flirt with him for people to notice."

 

Dean drummed his fingers thoughtfully on the table. "So, to recap: I flirt with other people and Cas knows there's nothing, I DON'T flirt with Cas and other people know there's epic romance?"

 

Sam snorted.

 

"My life is so weird."

 

+++

 

_(2005, Dean is 18)_

 

"Awwww man, I don't know how you guys can do this, my head is exploding" Dean whined, leaning back from his textbooks.

 

Sam was hunched over his own, but looked up. "Don't take me wrong, but I'm surprised you're even trying. Didn't you always say that you didn't want to go to college?"

 

"Yeah, but then Crowley pointed out that I was an idiot and couldn't get in anyway. My boyfriend is going to finish at the top of his class, my little brother is a genius and I'd never be able to show my face around you guys if I just lazed around on a GED. I have to at least try."

 

"Crowley's wrong." Cas placed a plate in front of him. "But please, accept this sandwich as a gesture of solidarity."

 

"Did you make sure the pig was thoroughly examined and comforted before they slaughtered it for the ham?" Cas had been through a -luckily brief- stint as a vegetarian just a few weeks prior. Thankfully his love of burgers had won out in the end, but Dean still liked to tease him for it.

 

He wondered what strange belief or philosophy Cas was trying out at the moment. The guy had had a sudden and rather explosive crisis of faith. It was followed by 3 tortuous months during which he read the bible and went to church every Sunday (to the delight of his family).

Then he'd gotten into a very loud argument over gay rights with a priest, left the church and never looked back.

Since that incident he didn't follow one specific religion as far as Dean could tell, but he possessed a strange kind of spirituality that was ever-changing and influenced by all kinds of different belief systems. It seemed that Cas was willing to give almost everything some consideration as long as it didn't mess with the one foundation his faith was built on: _Someday I'm going to marry Dean Winchester._

 

It humbled a guy, it really did. Dean took a bite of his sandwich. He'd need his strength.

 

+++

 

_(2008, Dean is 21)_

 

The night Dean turned 21, they partied at the Roadhouse. That meant Cas was getting responsibly drunk (seriously, that guy had a ridiculous alcohol tolerance), Dean and Jo were getting completely sloshed and Sam, not old enough to drink and tasked with getting them all home safely, had a quiet laugh with Jo's mother/bar owner Ellen about their antics.

 

When the drunken singing started, Ellen nearly threw them out, but the other patrons seemed more amused than bothered by Dean and Jo's murdering of a confused medley of AC/DC and Metallica.

 

After that, Dean and Cas apparently decided it was time for some schmoopy Disney classics. They were actually quite good, considering the state they were in. Sam had never been happier that his parents had sprung for an iPhone last Christmas because this recording was going to be excellent teasing material for years.

 

"Dude, why do you of all people know all the lyrics to _'Just around the river bend'_ and _'Colors of the wind_ '?"

 

"Maaaan, Sammy, are ya kiddin' me? 'Pocahontas' changed my fuckin' _life_!"

 

And, being the good little brother that he was, Sam never ever let him live that down.

 

+++

 

_(2016, Dean is 29)_

 

This is another house in another town. There is a wooden picture frame on the wall. Two large white feathers with black tips are stuck to its top left corner, a metal sheriff's star decorates the one on the lower right. In the frame, there is a picture of two young men on their wedding day.

 

A voice sounds from the bedroom: "Dean? Sam just called me because your phone is apparently turned off."

 

"Maybe. I swear the damn thing runs outta juice in under five minutes." Dean had only let go of his trusty old Nokia when Sam started hitting him in the head with it and then thrust a new hell-contraption called 'smart-phone' in his direction. So far, it only succeeded in making him permanently unreachable.

 

"He wanted to know if he could borrow the Impala tonight."

 

"Over my cold, dead body."

 

A sigh filters into the living room, followed by his husband. "Really Dean, must you be like that every time?"

 

"It's my baby, Cas, my only child. Sammy is a big-shot lawyer now so he can get his own damn car." He accidentally clicks 'close' on a window where he had been trying to get his laptop to stream the new 'Batman v Superman' movie. "Son of a bitch!"

 

"He only just started, you know he can't afford it yet." Cas leans over the leather sofa, puts his hand over Dean's on the mouse and with three clicks somehow makes the damn thing work. "Your obsession with that car is as unhealthy as it is ridiculous", he adds.

 

"You know a proper cowboy needs his trusty steed."

 

"What, do you plan on riding into the sunset anytime soon?"

 

"How about I ride _you_ into the sunset sometime soon?" Dean leers. He knows his joke hit the mark when he catches his husband's barely-there smirk.

 

"In which case you won't be needing the Impala today."

 

Dean sighs: "Fine, you win." He pulls him down for a kiss. "But tell Samantha that if he gets one scratch on her, I'll be coming after him with a shotgun."

 

"Fortunately, you have never been a very good shot."

 

 

END


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the process of writing, I cut out a lot of bits that were cute but didn't do anything for the plot. If you are in the mood for some slice-of-life fluff, try this!

_(1992, Dean is 5)_

 

They pretended to find a sick wolf on one of their adventures. Dean wrapped it in bandages and set its broken leg, Castiel made magical Indian medicine out of herbs and mud. The wolf soon got better and they had a big argument because Dean wanted to keep it but Cas insisted that it was a wild animal and shouldn't be held captive. In the end the little cowboy gave in and together they watched their imaginary pet disappear into the wilderness (around the next street corner).

 

The wolf often came back to share their adventures, though.

 

\---

 

_(1993, Dean is 6)_

 

Dean sometimes had nightmares about fire. His mom always came to his room when she heard him and soothed him.

 

"Shhh, Darling, don't be scared, angels are watching over you", she said like she always did.

 

"I don't need no other angels", the boy mumbled, "I have Castiel now."

And he fell asleep again.

 

\---

 

One of the Indian stories Cas told him was about how his ancestors lived up in the sky between the stars and watched over people forever.

 

They sat on the ground, a fire (well, a small heap of sticks) between them, holding hands and chanting. Then the Indian spoke some words in a deep voice that his friend didn't understand. He explained that he had asked his ancestors for guidance so that he would always make the right choices in his life.

 

Dean thought that was really cool. Then he took him home and made his bewildered mother call his grandparents. Mrs. Campbell quickly became equally confused when after a few short words her grandson handed the receiver to a strange child who proceeded to ask her for advice about what he should wish for on his upcoming birthday.

 

The call ended and Castiel admitted that talking to one's ancestors directly was very convenient. He twisted the phone's curly cord between his fingers. "It was some good advice", he assured Dean and looked at him seriously like he always did.

 

\---

 

_(1995, Dean is 8)_

 

"Howdy, Cas! Are you on the warpath?" Dean pointed to the red lines decorating the Indian's cheeks and nose.

 

"I have painted my face to celebrate the birthday of my youngest brother, as is traditional for my tribe."

 

Dean whistled, impressed. He was just about to ask Cas to make him an honorary member of his tribe or something because painting his face on birthdays sounded like fun, when the other boy sighed sadly. "What's wrong?"

 

"I have been forbidden to join the party because I stole my stepmother's lipstick to do this, actually."

 

The little cowboy put his arm around him and said: "Come home with me, my mom still has some pie and that's way better than any old birthday cake."

 

\---

 

Cas' older brother Raphael saw them kiss about a month after they had promised to marry each other. As a result, Cas was grounded for a whole week, but even after that the boy was unusually unrepentant about the whole matter. His family was at a loss what to do with him, because short of locking him up or sending him away there was no way to keep him permanently from Dean.

In the end, they decided it was probably just his rebellious phase and would pass eventually.

Meanwhile they'd just ignore it and write to their father.

 

An answer never came.

 

\---

 

_(2000, Dean is 13)_

 

Sam sometimes teases him that he is the only cowboy in existence who hates country music. He just flips him off and turns up the volume of Led Zeppelin on his Walkman.

 

\---

 

_(2003, Dean is 16)_

 

It was 4 o'clock in the afternoon when Dean walked into the living room and caught his little brother getting all hot and heavy with his girlfriend. Sam ripped his hands from under her blouse so fast Dean feared he'd left scratches and the two jumped away as if burned.

Jess left the house 2 minutes later in a cloud of mortified embarrassment and blonde hair.

 

"Sorry for ruinin' your little date, Sammy", Dean said but his grin was not at all sorry. "I wouldn't have come in if you'd've put a sock on the - oh right our living room  _has no door_ ."

 

Sam just hid his face in his hands and groaned.

 

"'s nice to see how fast my little brother is growing up. Seems like only yesterday that I was teachin' you to walk. Keep going like that and you'll lose your virginity before I do."

 

Sam shot him a look from between his fingers: "I'm kinda surprised you didn't already. Does Cas-"

 

"Nothing wrong with Cas", his big brother interrupted. "Or me. We just decided that we didn't want our first time with one of his brothers in the next room or my parents downstairs or in the backseat of the car. And there's no need to rush, we've got the rest of our lives. We can wait for the right moment."

 

"And here I thought you were saving yourself for marriage."

 

"Psht, if I waited for those asshats in politics to legalize gay marriage I'd die an old spinster."

 

\---

 

 

END

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you still haven't had enough, here are some trivia about this AU that didn't fit anywhere:
> 
> \- Cas' family: His father's first marriage resulted in Michael (the tall blond boy from the beginning), the adopted Raphael (often stuck-up correcter of homework for Dean and Cas) and then a divorce due to prolonged absence of his father. Closely followed by a second marriage, which resulted in Gabriel (trickster and worst possible role model for young children), a while later Castiel, then sudden death due to illness of wife #2. Present relationship with his personal assistant Naomi, they seem to get along fine, birth of the youngest child Samandriel (baby in the stroller from the beginning, Dean actually has no idea for a long time whether it's supposed to be a girl or a boy due to the increasingly bizarre naming practices in the family).  
> Then there is Creepy Cousin Lucien (same age as Michael, didn't appear in the story though he often visits), and Limey Cousin Balthazar (whom Cas likes but Dean thinks is a douchebag. Dean also has a deeply rooted Pocahontas-induced fear of letting Cas go anywhere near England, especially via plane, so Cas and Balthazar aren't close).  
> Additionally an assortment of caretakers, nannies and teachers to keep the household going and the kids supervised. Worst among them is Zachariah (proclaimed by Cas to be an "ass-butt").
> 
> \- adversaries: Dean's kiddie troupe is often taunted by Crowley and Ruby who make fun of them for playing Cowboys and are clearly evil incarnate. Later joined by Meg and Bela, who can sometimes be nice but usually are not.
> 
> \- unhappy stuff: all of Cas' and Dean's fights. They're kids, of course they fight.  
> Dean's long and bumpy road to the realization that he is aesthetically more attracted by women, but emotionally more by men (I'm pretty sure that is possible, but didn't look it up).  
> Sam hooking up with Ruby during uni and then slipping into drug addiction. By the time he manages to ditch both her and the habit, he has lots of debts and can count himself lucky to have landed any kind of job. This is the reason why he can't afford even a second-hand Toyota and has to borrow Dean's car instead.


End file.
